


The Right Kind of Wrong

by CosmoKid



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mentions of Rape, None in the Fic, Past Child Abuse, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Self-Destruction, The Ending is Kinda Happy, Unhealthy Relationships, just mentioned, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8381596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmoKid/pseuds/CosmoKid
Summary: I’m not the kind of guy you take home to your parents
 In which Steve and Bucky share tragic pasts, but Steve is much better at coping.





	

**Author's Note:**

> the summary is pretty bad...
> 
> this isn't a happy fic at all

“I’m not the kind of guy you take home to your parents,” Bucky muses, taking a long drag of his cigarette, “Nor the kind of guy to marry or settle down with,” he continues, his eyes burning darkly into Steve’s.

“I don’t care,” Steve hisses, turning his face from the cigarette smoke, grateful for his recent lack of asthma.

“You sure about that doll?” Bucky drawls, leaning backwards against the back of the bleachers, “The all-American boy not being monogamous? Aren’t you scared I’ll tarnish your reputation?” he smirks, playing with his lip ring teasingly. Steve can’t remember when Bucky got it, but it seems familiar.

“Do you really think that lowly of me, Barnes?” Steve raises his eyebrows at Bucky, stepping forward, slowly closing the space between the two of them. His hair is tousled and he’s dripping with sweat, his jersey sticking close to his body.

“I don’t know Rogers, you tell me,” Bucky taunts in response, the corners of his mouths turning up into a smirk, “Maybe you’re worried I’ll get you into sex and drugs, ruin your chances at a scholarship.” Steve grits his teeth, that’s a low blow and Bucky knows it. He knows how much Steve needs a college scholarship.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Steve growls in response, his eyes feral with anger and passion. He’s not surprised when Bucky does, flipping their positions around so he can push Steve against the bleachers. It’s angry and fervent, a battle for dominance. They push against each other, bite each other, leave bruises and claims on one another. It’s toxic and dangerous, but addictive as hell.

 

Bucky doesn’t know how he got here, in a cheap, sleazy motel room, lying next to the school’s superstar, Steve Rogers. His body is covered in scratches, hickeys and bruises, his head pounding like a drum. They fucked ruthlessly, caring more about the pain than the pleasure yet he couldn’t leave.

Steve looks peaceful when he sleeps, the way you’d expect an honour student to. Bucky doesn’t know how Steve got here, how he went from Sharon Carter, the head cheerleader, to him, the resident druggie. Maybe he thinks he can fix Bucky, save him from himself or maybe he’s looking for thrills and excitement, he doubts Sharon gives anything but vanilla sex. 

He crawls out of bed, as silently as he can. He knows how light of a sleeper is, knows exactly why as well. He knows it’s the same reason why Steve won’t drink alcohol. 

Sometimes he sits and draws comparisons between the two of them, the drunken dead father being the catalyst. Sometimes he thinks that he should have coped like Steve did, swearing off alcohol and being as well-mannered as possible. Maybe he should follow Steve’s example and work towards a better life that he’s dreamed of. He could quit the cigarettes and the drugs, attend class and pay attention. Or at least he could quit his street fights and exercise normally, stay in shape healthily.

Instead, he sighs and lights a cigarette, glancing back at Steve’s sleeping form before he leaves the room. Maybe this time he won’t return, let Steve go before he fucks his life up like Bucky has. Maybe.

 

“Ever think that you shouldn’t take that extra drink?” Steve questions, his eyes stuck to the grimy bottle that Bucky’s holding shakily. He doesn’t know what he’s drinking, but he can tell it’s not safe for him.

“Ever think you should shut your fucking mouth,” Bucky grumbles, taking an extra-long swig of his drink in retaliation. He knows it’s immature and reckless, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if he doesn’t get to twenty, at least he won’t get the chance to turn into a monster like his father did.

“I’m not letting you destroy yourself,” Steve commands, knocking the bottle out of his Bucky’s hand and to the floor. It spills everywhere, the dark liquid staining the damp rug beneath their feet. He doesn’t care, it makes the pattern better anyway.

At least that’s what he wants to do, what he wishes he had the courage to say, “I’d rather you do it instead,” he murmurs instead, his voice deep and challenging. 

Courage isn’t the word for it really, dignity maybe. He doesn’t know really, he could try to help him, be selfless and the kid everyone thinks he is. Or he could give into his own desires and use Bucky to get his own thrills and excitement like he always does.

 

“WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE?” Bucky growls, pushing Steve away from him in anger. He glares at him, trying to warn Steve to back off.

“Why do I care? Fuck, maybe I just don’t want to watch you drink yourself to an early grave!” Steve is shouting too, but he’s calmer and more controlled. He’s standing his ground though and Bucky knows he should be the one to concede, that Steve is just trying to help him. He knows he should accept the help, stop himself from destroying himself, but doesn’t.

“You don’t get to care, Steve, you wouldn’t care if you weren’t fucking me,” he snarls, backing away from Steve, “You’re not the Saint you pretend to be, I’m not your problem to fix!” He knows it’s no point in deflecting his anger on Steve, pretending that he means nothing to Steve. He fucking knows that it’s not true, if Steve really only cared about Bucky for his reputation, they wouldn’t have been fucking for months.

“I don’t even know why I fucking try with you, you just blaming everyone else because you fucked up your life,” Steve sighs, looking disgruntled and disappointed. It hits Bucky too hard, Steve knows that it’s not all Bucky’s fault. But maybe it is mostly, sure his father was a drunken abuser, but he was gone now and Bucky was the one who’d isolated himself and set himself in a destructive rut. Steve was the only one who was even trying to help him. He’s turning into his father.

“Then don’t,” Bucky states coldly, his eyes null of emotion. 

“Fine,” Steve snaps, turning on his heel and storming out of the motel room. He’s fucked up again, Steve was the only good thing in his life and he drove him away.  
At least he won’t bring Steve down with him anymore and at least no one will mourn when he’s lowered into his early grave.

 

“So you finally came to your senses?” Sam asks from beside Steve, breaking the silence of the locker room. They’re the only ones left, everyone else has already left to celebrate the victory. Steve wants to celebrate, but he also doesn’t want to deal with Sharon. He hates how she looks like a kicked puppy now, he doesn’t want to feel guilty about breaking up with her. He wants to feel guilty about cheating on her, lying to her, giving her false hope, but he can’t. He doesn’t feel guilty about it, about giving himself some short happiness. Instead, he feels guilty for cutting her happiness short.

He wishes he could be that all-American boy who never does anything wrong like everyone thinks he is.

“About what?” Steve inquires, looking up from tying his shoe. Sam’s been ready for a while now, but Steve’s been dragging it out, wanting to avoid most of the crowd. That’s probably impossible, seeing as everyone wants to congratulate the captain, but he can hope.

He can also hope that Bucky is waiting for him behind the bleachers like he always is. He knows it’s not true, he looked out at the crowd at least fifteen times throughout the game, trying to see him. He’s not here. 

Why would he be? Their relationship- whatever the fuck they were- ended. Bucky doesn’t have to wait for Steve at the end of every game. 

“Barnes,” Sam states simply, looking emotionlessly at Steve, clearly aware that Steve knew who he meant. Steve almost always knew what Sam meant.

“How do you know?” Steve sighs, not bothering to protest about it. It isn’t common knowledge that he and Bucky were fucking, but he had friends who could read anyone like a book. He had no idea how it happened, but it was probably a mix of Nat’s intuitive skills and Tony’s access to what seemed like every single camera throughout the city. No one but Sam knows that Steve has some kind of feeling towards Bucky, though.

“You had this aura around you when you were fucking so either Barnes is no longer a good fuck or you’ve stopped entirely,” Sam explains, standing up after seeing that Steve’s finally ready to go. He shoulders his bag, looking expectantly at Steve.

“How do you know it was the latter?” Steve questions, joining Sam on his feet, reluctant to leave the locker room. He doesn’t want to do anything right now, just sleep.

“Guy like that is never boring,” Sam answers shortly, clearly not wanting to divulge into the sex life of Bucky, “Now come on, Tony’s throwing a party where you can get laid. We’ll talk about feelings later when I’m drunk enough not to punch you for fucking Bucky Barnes.” Sam turns around, heading outside of the locker room.

“I know you don’t like him Sam, but he ain’t that bad of a guy,” Steve calls after him, slowly picking up his bag hesitantly. He really doesn’t want to go outside.

“Sure he ain’t,” Sam snorts disbelievingly, not looking back as he walks. Steve follows tiredly, wanting nothing more than to just lay next to Bucky.

 

Bucky hates himself. He hates everything about himself. He hates how much he drinks and his attitude towards pain. He hates how he refuses help and his tendency to destroy himself. He hates how he knows every bartender in town by name even though he’s underage and how well he can punch someone. He hates that he knows exactly where to punch someone to knock them out and can do it perfectly. He hates why he can. He hates how he doesn’t go to class or care about his education. He hates how he’s given up on his future already.

He hates himself because he’s not Steve Rogers.

He’s not Steve Rogers who doesn’t drink and asks for help when he’s in pain. He’s not Steve Rogers who stops himself and others from self-destructing. He’s not Steve Rogers who obeys the law and is still careful when he’s on the football field. He’s not Steve Rogers who doesn’t like to hurt people and can win a game still. He’s not Steve Rogers who has a bright future.

He hates himself for hurting Steve, someone who didn’t deserve it, someone who was handed a shitty situation and made it better. He hates himself for rejecting Steve’s help and casting Steve away.

He hates that he knows that this was the best thing for Steve yet he wishes he’d done it differently.

He’s taking his anger out on someone else again. At least this time the person deserves it, kind of. The guy’s trying to force himself on an unwilling, screaming girl when Bucky finds him. He knocks the guy off her, to begin with, punching him a few times to keep him down, but then he doesn’t stop. He just punches the guy over and over again, kicks him when he’s down and stomps on his head. He can’t stop, he just wants to cause more and more pain.

Yet he feels empty, guilty, angry. He hates himself even more.

 

“And our last story of the night, two local teens have been arrested tonight following an altercation outside of the Howling Commandos. One Brock Rumlow is looking at potential rape charges and one James Buchanan Barnes is looking at potential abuse charges.” Steve looks up at the TV when he hears Bucky’s name, wide awake and aware.

“Isn’t that Bucky’s full name?” Sam asks beside him on the sofa, but Steve’s too focussed on the TV to hear him properly.

“Sources say that Rumlow was attempting to force himself upon an unidentified girl and that Barnes pushed him off of the girl. However, the injuries contracted does not fully support this.” Fuck, what’s Bucky got himself into this time? Steve knows it was only a matter of time before something like this happened, but he’s still shocked. He likes to pretend that Bucky was just a class clown, not a criminal. 

“The guy that Steve was fucking?” That was Nat reaffirming what Sam had said.

“The police have refused to give a statement at this given time, we will relay updates as they arrive.” Steve doesn’t even mean to throw his head into his hands, but he does. He shouldn’t be worrying about Bucky, Bucky had made it clear that he didn’t want Steve in his lie anymore. Steve can’t help but feel guilty and can’t help but stress about him. Bucky would never get a chance at a better future if he’s charged with anything. Bucky has fucked up more so than almost anyone, but even he deserves a second chance. It’s not like his life has ever been sunshine and rainbows like most kids at the school.

“Steve?”

“Steve?”

“Hellooo?”

“Earth to Rogers?”

“Steve?”

“Steve!”

“STEVE!”

Steve jumps awake, trying desperately to clear his mind. His brain his nothing but panic and anxiety for Bucky. Fuck. 

He’s sure Sam would make a joke about him being whipped if the situation wasn’t that severe.

“What?” Steve sighs, his voice hardly above a whisper as worrying thoughts rush around his brain.

“He really means a lot to you, doesn’t he?” Sam murmurs in realisation, immediately throwing his arm around Steve’s shoulders in a hug. Sam’s a good friend, even if he doesn’t approve in all of Steve’s choices (and for good reason, but Steve ignores that).

“He’s no saint, no way, but shit, he doesn’t deserve this,” Steve mutters, trying to ignore the tears that are threatening to spill. He hates it, he hates how much he cares about someone who was meant to be a lazy fuck and nothing more.

“Stark could probably pay his bail and get him a lawyer that’ll stop him from getting charged,” Nat interrupts suddenly, her voice curious, but assured.

“I can’t ask him to do that Nat,” Steve croaks, still urging his tears to go away. He can’t help but blame himself, he could have helped Bucky more, not just give up when Bucky told him to. If people had given up when Steve told them to, he wouldn’t be sitting here today. 

Fuck.

 

“Barnes, come on,” Officer Hill calls, smiling sadly at Bucky while beckoning for him to leave his cell with her.

“Why?” he calls out instead of getting up. He knows Hill, he knows that she’s probably trying to make his time here better as much as she can since Bucky is fucked. She’s the one who’s looked out for him ever since his father died, the one who’s turned a blind eye to all his drinking and drugs. He wouldn’t blame her if she just gave up on him now. She hasn’t though, she’s still trying. He hates that, he just wants everyone to give up on him so he has no reason to feel guilty when he fucks up.

“Someone’s bailed you out Bucky,” Hill announces, looking excited and glad for Bucky who’s just staring at her incredulously. Who the hell would bail him out? Who does he even have to bail him out? Certainly not his mum.

“Who?” he asks, his eyes wide and his mind confused. 

“Just come on Barnes, I don’t have all day.” Despite her warning tone, she’s grinning like a fool. He doesn’t deserve to have someone like Hill to help him or look out for him. He doesn’t deserve anything but pain.

He gets up and follows her uniformly, trying to figure out who would bail him out. He’s not aware of knowing anyone with enough money to bail him out or who cared enough to bail him out. He’s forgotten how confusing this prison is, all the corners and hallways. He hasn’t been here since the one time he visited his father before the man had drowned ‘tragically’ in the showers.

He hates that man. He’s the one who fucked up his life, to begin with, he’s the reason Bucky ended up on his destructive path. Growing up with an abusive, drunken father fucks up a child nearly as much as it fucked up his mom. He’s the reason Bucky doesn’t understand his emotions and the reason that Bucky’s scared to show any feelings. God does he hate that man.

He doesn’t know how to react when he sees Steve there, he doesn’t know whether to cry from happiness or from sadness. He’s just shocked. 

The only silver lining from the situation is that he’s no longer fucking up Steve as well as himself, but apparently, Steve didn’t agree with that plan.

He manages to choke out a “what” in his confusion and shock, his mouth left hanging slightly open while he tries to process the situation. 

“I paid your bail… well, Tony went half since he’s rich, but you know,” Steve explains, smiling, I’m not giving up on you yet Bucky, you might have given up, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to,” he adds before Bucky can ask why. He can’t seem to shake off Steve Rogers, but maybe that’s not a bad thing.

 

Steve looks towards Bucky as he drives, he’s sitting next to him silently. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just knows that he’s not letting him go down this path anymore. Steve knows what it’s like to want to give up, want to just let his life end. He understands how it feels to not want to be alive anymore, the feeling you get when you feel like there’s nothing left for you. He knows the desolation, the emptiness, the lack of anything. Everything is just gone.

He knows the struggle against it. This feeling of being falling down again and again and not wanting to get up again. It never feels like it’s going to get better, it always feels like you’re fighting a losing battle. It feels like the battle won’t ever end, like no matter what you do, you’ll end up there again, facing the void. That worry that you’ll never get out of this rut of wanting everything to end.

He knows, however, that it gets better, that you can heal. He did, sure he’s had relapses, moments where he was so close to ending it, but he’s still here. He owes it to his friends, they’re the only reason that he’s still going and that he hasn’t destroyed himself.

Bucky deserves a second chance, he’s worth so much more than a self-destructive death. Maybe most people haven’t realised it, but Steve knows it and he’s not giving up on Bucky.

“You okay?” Steve asks, hesitantly rubbing his hand on Bucky’s knee trying to comfort him. He wishes he could hug him while driving because Bucky needs a hug.

“Why’d you bail me out?” Bucky croaks, staring straight ahead at the dark road. 

“Do you really need an explanation for that?” Steve sighs, wishing Bucky understood why Steve won’t give up on him. He hates that Bucky doesn’t understand that he’s worth so much. It makes him so angry that Bucky doesn’t see himself as worth saving. He hates it so much.

“Yes,” Bucky snaps, turning his head to look at Steve, “I’ve done nothing but hurt you, Steve, physically and emotionally. I’ve taken all my anger out on you, blamed you for my own problems and treated you like shit because I’m jealous that you can cope better than I can. I’ve been nothing but shitty to you yet you just bailed me out!” Bucky takes a long breath after, a stray tear falling from his eye. 

“I’ve only coped better because I had people who helped. Shit Bucky, sure we both had essentially the same asshole as a father, but my mom was still there for me and I still had all my friends. You’ve been caring for your mom since you were what? Five? Six? You had no one there to help you. You don’t deserve to have no future or an early grave Bucky, even if you refuse to believe it,” Steve’s shouting now, a flood of emotions hitting him, “I’m not giving up on you. I can’t promise it’ll be easy, trust me, it’s not. It’s not going to happen overnight and there’s going to be times where it feels like there’s no point in continuing, that there is no happy ending. But I promise you that there is. It’s an uphill battle, it’ll take a long time and a long of effort and determination, but I’m not giving up. I’m not going to let you destroy yourself. You’re going to get through this, we’re going to get through this, okay?” 

“Okay,” Bucky murmurs in response, his eyes glazed over almost. Maybe Bucky would never get that happily ever after from all the fairy-tale, but Steve's going to get him as close to it as he could.

**Author's Note:**

> come scream with me on [tumblr](https://island-of-asteria.tumblr.com/)


End file.
